Aquila Black
by fireball900
Summary: Self-Inserts always become the nicest people. But sometimes, circumstances demand otherwise... OC-Centric, Dark/Femslash included. Rated M for torture and adult themes. No bashing
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I Don't own Harry Potter, or anything/one else you might recognise. **_  
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**Warnings for: Dark. Femslash. OC-Centric. Torture. Politics (not centric). Slytherin. NO BASHING**

**Expect Dumbledore to be as portrayed in Canon; very smart, very knowledgeable, very manipulative, and _very old_.**

**Expect Voldemort to be... Well, that'd be spoiling things. Lets just say Voldemort was feared for a reason. **

**Any and all changes have been caused by the presence of the OC. The OC is flapping her wings like a butterfly in this. If you spot something that is different; wave at the butterfly.**

_"You have to take her. I can't protect her. If he found out... I wouldn't be able to save her."_

_"She's... And you're giving her to me? You think I can protect her any better than you can?"_

_"No, but you can hide her. You know so many people, and most importantly they're not the ones that I know. If he found out about her, then he couldn't get her location out of my head."_

_"Wait. So...?"_

_"So I don't want to know where, or with who she will be hidden."_

_"You don't want to be a parent."_

_"Oh, I want her to be my daughter with all my heart. But with the war, and him... Let's face it, I'm not exactly parent material anyway."_

_"And I am?"_

_"No, but I'm not asking you to be her father, just her protector."_

_"Why does she even need protecting? Can't you just run away with her?"_

_"I can't. I have duties, obligations... People would notice... I know you were never the most responsible person, but I am, and I am asking you to be, this one time, for the most precious person in the world to me."_

_"I... Alright. I'll do it. Anything I should know?"_

_"No, but... Could you claim her as a Black?"_

_"What? The only way to do that would be to claim her as my daughter, and I thought you said you didn't want me to be her father!?"_

_"That's not what I said, I think you'd make a brilliant father if or when you put your heart to it. You can tell her that you're not her father. But she is a Black, and she deserves all that name carries. I know you don't think much of the family, but at the end of the day, the Black name has power. She could well need that in life. I may not be able to look after her directly, but I can do this."_

_"And it would give you a reason to see her, yes?"_

_"Exactly."_

_"Fine. I understand. I... Any last goodbyes?"_

_"Aquila, my daughter. I... I love you so much, and I'm so sorry that I won't be able to watch you grow up. You are my precious daughter, my wonderful daughter, and... And maybe someday I'll find you, someday when everything is safe. But no matter what, I know you'll do me proud whether I'm there to see it or not. Goodbye, my little fledgling."_

BUZZ!

I open my eyes at the sound of my alarm. A slap on the wall panel turns it off, and I jump up and start dressing. Hogwarts today. Everything begins today. The last eleven years have merely been the prologue, and it's time to begin the story.

It's silent as I check the mirror and look over myself. Black curly hair, silvery-blue eyes, fairly lithe body... I'll be a beauty as an adult, but as a child, I look slightly fey. I look like an effing Mary Sue in fact, but then from what I've found out about them, all Blacks look like this; exotic eyes, black hair, good body... I don't have anything to complain about, not really.

A few minutes work and I'm wearing a ponytail to keep my long hair out of the way. I have on a white shirt, black trousers and my favourite jacket which is black with silver highlights. I pack a few final bits and pieces into my trunk, making sure that my potions note-book and _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi; extended edition_ (a potions/herbology encyclopedia) are at the top. I'll be working on that on the train. All set. I lift my trunk easily, courtesy of a feather-light enchantment, and walk out my bedroom.

Into a riot of colours and noise. Crossing a _silencio_ barrier is always jarring. I'm in the residential quarters, so there aren't too many people around as most of the work is done at night. Nevertheless as I walk out, people say hello to me in various states of dress; some dressing, some undressing. None of it's new to me and even if it was, I'm too young to be affected by hormones and too old to be affected by embarrassment.

I arrive in the cantina, and sit between a bulky brown haired guy wearing black security robes and a thirty year old blond woman (who looks twenty) who is dressed in an overcoat to protect the red silks she is wearing underneath.

"Hi Keela." The man greets me in a deep voice. "Excited for Hogwarts?"

"Hi Jacob. You bet, I can't wait to get at that library!" The woman rolled her eyes at me.

"You seem like such a Ravenclaw sometimes."

"Hypocrite, I've seen you with your charms treatise. How's the mastery going by the way, still on track?" I started to tuck into my breakfast which just appeared before me.

She smiled. "Yeah, I'll be done with it by the time you finish your first year. Still need to pick an idea for my signature spell though."

"You've always liked high altitudes, maybe something to do with wind or lowering air pressure." Because I hadn't though long and hard on this _at all_.

"That could work. I'll think about it. I'm off to bed now though, it'll be a long night tonight. Lots of child-free parents. See you at Christmas." She winked at me and walked off, her habitual sway showing itself.

"Bye Sylvie!" I called. I ate in silence for the next few minutes, waving goodbye to Jacob when he left for work. I had just finished when I got tapped on the shoulder. I turned around to find a tall, black haired woman behind me. For all her beauty, she still looked imposing and intimidating in her dark leather, with various sharp implements attached to her. The whip in one hand only accentuated the feel. She seemed like the sort of person who gained happiness from squishing people like bugs.

I hugged her. After rocking back from the force (I'd jumped from my chair to reach her), she put her arms around me. She smelled faintly of leather, as always. "I'm glad I got to see you one last time, Abi." I said, muffled slightly. For all her imposing demeanor (which she worked hard on), she was still my favourite person here. She wasn't a mother, but she was definitely a big sister.

"Well you're in luck," she said as I raised my head to look in her blue eyes. "I'm the one taking you to the station." I blinked in surprise, before hugging her extra hard and thanking her. "Come now, you didn't think no-one would see you off, did you. Everyone should have someone to wave to from the train."

"Well, I've eaten, so lets go. There's someone I want to meet." It was part of the reason I hadn't really wanted anyone to take me. People would ask questions, but Abi... "Harry Potter."

She raised her eyebrow at me. She knew I wasn't a Harry Potter fan; aside from the one I had bought as a comedy (though it was billed as adventure), I had turned my nose up at them and loudly denounced them. I wasn't a Dumbledore fan either, so she knew it couldn't be that. That left... "I hope you'll go easy on the poor boy, Keela," she said with a smirk.

"Depends how much he can take." I smirk back at her.

"That's my line," she admonished me, chuckling.

I shrug. "If the collar fits." Our eyes meet quickly before we both burst into laughter. It's ignored by those around us, even though it takes a minute to regain ourselves.

"Come on." She says slipping a hand into mine and pulling me along. I grab my trunk and we take off, weaving through the people as we make our way to the staff floo. "Ready?" She asks, and I nod. I take a pinch of floo powder and throw it in.

"Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Student!" I step in and after a long ten seconds, am spat back out. Thanks to my not stopping walking, I land on my feet (albeit not entirely steadily). I turn around and a few seconds later my trunk comes flying out. I let it land on the floor instead of trying to catch it - lightening it doesn't change it's mass, as I found out to my pain a few years ago. The fire turns back normal for a second, before turning green again and spitting Abi out.

We stepped to the side immediately, as per floo protocol, before looking around. It was only ten, so while it was very busy, it wasn't full. It looked like you would expect it would; semi-organised chaos. Parents, pets and pupils everywhere. We lingered for a while, before I lead her out towards the muggleborn entrance; the wall leading the King's Cross Station. "Come on," I said, before walking out through the entrance.

I alone for less than a second before she came through. "Why this side?" She asked.

"Harry Potter was hidden with his relatives. Everyone on the magical side checks out, and I doubt there's anyone he's related to on his father's side Dumbledore trusts with him anyway; all the closest ones are Blacks, and we're grey at lightest. On his mother's side is her muggle sister Petunia. You know that time a couple of years ago I managed to get away from you all? I had managed to find him. It was only a quick chat, as he had muggle school, but it was enough. He's not very Slytherin; he wears his heart on his sleeves." Well, around those who show him affection, anyway; when Dudley came around he clammed up like anything, and I think he may have gotten punished because of me so I didn't meet him again. From I could tell the punishment was merely unpleasant, but I tipped of the local social services before I came back home. As far as I know, nothing came of it, and he probably won't even remember me, but I'll find out today. "Besides, this is a great way to meet new people. I can help all those new muggleborn."

She shook her head and chuckled. "I don't see how anyone can deny you're a Slytherin."

"Well, I plan on making friends with muggleborn, which isn't exactly the standard MO for them. Besides, I'm hoping to get into Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Far less suspicious." I winked at her.

We both fell quiet and waited by the entrance, watching the various people going by. It's a hobby of mine when I have nothing to do and am in crowded places; watch people and pretend to be Sherlock, trying to figure out what they're like.

Twenty minutes later, after three lawyers, a family coming home from a beach holiday, an accountant, a bartender and a teenage college student, the first muggleborn arrived. Well, the first first-year; there were four from elder years, who didn't need my help. I wasn't sure if the universe was mocking me or helping me; the muggleborn had wild bushy brown hair and was carrying a book. She was fairly plain, not the type to grow into a beauty, but she would likely be pretty in the nerdy girl-next-door kind of way when she grew up. Though with magic I knew she would easily be able to change that (though I doubted she would). The parents both had short brown curly hair, looking more like siblings than a couple. When they slowed and started looking around I walked towards them. The parents noticed me first, pointing me out to their daughter. I stopped a few feet from them and waved and bounced. "Hi, I'm Aquila. Do you need help going through?" I asked brightly. My 'cute little girl' look was a lot more realistic than it used to be. Being an eleven year old girl helps that a lot.

The father smiled at me. Sure, I'm Dan Granger, this is my wife Emma and our daughter Hermione." He gestured at each one. Odd, he wasn't touching them.

Hermione stepped up, somehow looking both bossy and shy. "I'm Hermione. I'm so fascinated by magic have you done any yet? I've read all my books and I'm afraid I might not measure up to those who've had magic all my life and-" I cut her off by gently placing two fingers over her mouth. Her eyes went cross-eyed looking at my hand.

"I've done a bit of magic, having had the benefit of living in the wizarding world, but it's only a few spells. I've read through all my books, but I doubt many have so you're probably ahead in that. Many muggleborn start every year and some of them are our greatest spellcasters, so I'm sure you'll do fine." I smirked at her. "It sounds like you're destined for Ravenclaw, which is where those you love knowledge go." A white lie; Hermione was as much of a bull-headed Gryffindor as the rest of the canon trio, but if I can get her there I'll be able to temper that trait easier.

She frowned at me before stepping away from my hand. "Gryffindor sounds better because that's where heroes go like Headmaster Dumbledore. He's amazing, have you read about him? He's beat Grindelwald! And-" I stepped forward once to place my fingers back on her mouth. It was proving an effective silencing tactic.

"Gryffindor is where those who are bull-headed and like the spotlight go. The only reason it seems like all the heroes come from there is because the other houses tend to fade into the background, rather than rushing at the front of the charge. Being known for being loyal, curious or ambitious does not make you any less heroic than you already are. Dumbledore is Dumbledore, not Hermione Granger. You should go where you fit. And of course I know about Dumbledore, he's a famous figure in the wizarding world. Any person who grew up around magic would know about him and about how he fought Grindelwald. It would be like not knowing who Hitler was." My small speech was calm and rational. I'd had several versions of it planned out for a couple of years now, prepared for when I met her. All in the hope of making the right first impression (and first manipulations). I looked over at the adults, and all three were looking at us in amusement (Abi was still by the wall a couple dozen feet away).

She stepped back. "How did you know I was a Hogwarts student anyway? I suppose I gave away the muggleborn part, but I'm not showing any signs of magic am I? I cast a few spells at home, and they seemed to work, but have they left something on me? Can you see magic? I've read about-" My fingers are on her lips again.

"You have a trunk, are eleven and are looking around between platforms nine and ten. You also have a wand. Well done with the magic, others often have trouble, but you won't be able to do that next year due to the restrictions to under-age magic. I can't see magic, the only way to do that is through charms or enchanted items. Some people do develop a sixth sense of magic however, particularly against hostile magic.

She stepped back again. "Why do you keep doing that? It's irritating." She stopped, clearly expecting me to move forward again. I didn't, and instead merely grinned.

"You don't seem to need to breath, and if you ask multiple questions without giving people time to answer, they'll either get annoyed, forget the questions, or both. It seemed an effective way of getting some time to answer." I checked my watch. "It's twenty to Eleven now. I told them. You can go through now if you want to, or wait with me. I'll be out here for another ten minutes or so."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "Why are you here? And alone?" She asked, only just now realising that it was odd for an eleven year old to walk up to them.

"I'm not alone." I said, pointing to Abi. She waved at the Grangers when they looked at her. "And I'm waiting for someone. He's..." I trailed off, spotting a certain group of four people I had been looking out for. A fat walrus-like man, a thin horse-faced woman, an obese kid (who had around three times the waist he should have), and a small, messy black haired boy with glasses and oversized clothing. Harry looked like the poster child for homeless kids. No wonder Mrs Weasley felt the urge to mother him. He looked years younger than he should have. Thank god I brought clothes for him in my trunk. As I watched, the 'family' stopped, the fat man (what was his name? V-something) spat a few words, and the three left leaving Harry behind to look wildly around. I turned back to the Grangers "and here is the person I've been waiting for. I suggest you leave for the train, but if you want to save a compartment Hermione, me and Harry will come join you." She blinked in surprise, then nodded. Her parents nodded, then beckoned Hermione along. As they left, I shared a look with Abi. She knew something was off with Harry now; her job made rapid character appraisals vital, and she hadn't liked what she'd seen with Harry. And she knew I was expecting it. I'd probably escaped a talking-to for now, but we'd be having a chat about this at Christmas.

I walked towards Harry and intercepted him as he made his way towards the guard. "He's a muggle, he wouldn't know anything about platform nine and three quarters." His relief was almost comical. "I'm Aquila Black."

"Harry Potter," he said, almost ready to cringe, expecting a fan girlish reaction. Instead, of course, I just nodded, and walked him over to his stuff. "The famous one?" I asked, acting unsure.

"Er, y-yeah." He said, stuttering.

"Don't stutter," I chided playfully, "You've nothing to be ashamed of." He closed his mouth and looked down, clearly disagreeing with me. By Merlin, building up his self-confidence was going to be hell. At least Hermione can fake it. I glanced at Abi and she got my message, meeting us at his stuff with my trunk. She took out a wand and tapped his trunk. He glanced at it and then went to pick it up.

"Whoa," he said, unbalancing at the unexpected lack of weight.

"Featherlight charm." Abi explained. "It'll only last for a quarter hour or so, but that'll be long enough for you to get it on the train.

"Thanks Mrs Black." He said. Me and Abi froze, before looking at each other.

"I'm not her mother." Abi said, quirking a smile. Harry looked terrified at that. People always are intimidated by Abi.

"Oh, sorry. It's just that- well - you look similar, so..." He's right, we do look similar. Black hair, fairly tall, both confident... hell, even our outfit's were similar; hers just looked like an 'adult' version of mine. Huh, well, I always did see her as a role model.

"It's OK," said Abi. "Time for you to get on the train. Your owl should be able to find you there if she like you." Harry immediately let Hedwig out of her cage.

"What's her name?" I asked. Don't want to call by her name when I haven't been told it.

"Hedwig." He answered.

"Come on, let's go." I said, pulling him by the hand. He barely had time to freeze at the contact, or even at the wall, before I dragged him through. Once through, I stopped, allowing him to calm down after being dragged through a wall.

"What was that?" He exclaimed.

"A fake wall. It's the pillar between platforms nine and ten. There's a few wizarding trains that stop in this station, those this platform is only open six times a year; for the Hogwarts Express." I explained, waving a hand towards the train. It was impressive, as his 'whoa' showed, but I've never been one for trains, so I didn't really care about it. I looked around and the Granger adults were standing sans daughter; she had already got on. Brilliant. I let go of Harry, and turned around to face Abi, who had come through behind us with my trunk. We smiled at each other and exchanged a hug. "I'll miss you." I said, by eyes tearing up.

"And I you. But I expect weekly owls." I nodded, before stepping away and trying my eyes. I grabbed my trunk and turned around. Harry was still looking at the platform, although from the look on his face I suspected he hadn't been as oblivious to our exchange as he looked. Abi stepped up and ruffled his hair. He startled, looking up at her. "Look after yourself kid." She said. he nodded dumbly, not expecting the affection in her voice. Good old Abi.

I grabbed his hand with my free hand and pulled. "Come on, time to go scar-head." We weaved our way through the crowd, dodging pets, trunks and people, before finally stepping onto the carriage. "I've got someone reserving a compartment for us. She an eleven year old girl, with wildly bushy brown hair, probably with a book of some sort." He nodded, and we slowly made our way down the train, checking into compartments. Two minutes later...

"Is this her?" Harry asked, pointing through a door. I looked; one bushy brown haired girl reading a book. Bingo.

"Yup," I said, sliding the door open. "Hi again. This is my other friend." If I hadn't expected it I'd I'd quite possibly have missed the shock they both showed over being called a friend. "Hermione Granger, meet Harry Potter." She opened her mouth and I immediately placed two fingers over it. "The only things books have gotten right about him is that he has a scar and that he was the only survivor that night. Anything else concerning him is speculation or outright fantasy, as he grew up with muggles." I looked over at Harry, who clearly wasn't sure what to make of the interaction. "Hermione's a bit bossy and doesn't seem to need to breathe, so she'll talk a lot if you let her. But she's friendly and means well." God, the temptation to make a joke about her making her future boyfriends happy was is to resist. I placed my trunk On a seat, before taking Harry's and doing the same. He was still a little stunned. Hermione didn't seem to know what to say either.

I sat down, dragging Harry down next to me, and decided to break the ice. "I'm looking forward to charms and defence against the dark arts the most. I love the things that can be done with a wand, and I'm interested in becoming a duelist." It seems fascinating, and will be a good cover for my training. "How about you two?"

Hermione spoke first. "History of magic seems like it will be amazing, I can't wait to learn about all the wizarding world. And transfiguration look interesting, even if I have no idea how the physics of that work."

I chuckled lightly. "It's magic Hermione, for the most part physics doesn't live around here" Not quite true; from what I can tell, there's just more dimensions involved in 'magic' than in normal life, though I've got no idea how to test that. And it's not as though that explains anything; it's kinda like saying 'flying is a three-dimensional movement; it still doesn't explain how to fly.

"I like the look of potions the most. I like cooking, and the things you can make with it seem cool," said Harry. I hadn't remembered him liking potions pre-Snape. Still this makes things easier.

"You'll have to study hard at that then. The Professor is a potions genius, and geniuses are crap teachers. Apparently he hates kids." The look on Hermione's face when I told her a professor hates kids was hilarious. I moved to my trunk and started rummaging. "In fact..." I took out my Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and my potions notebook. "The place I grew up in had a potions master, so I know plenty already. This is the extended edition of the book on the school list; it has lots of potions tips the regular one doesn't. My notebook is where I re-write potions recipes, including the hints. My potions textbook is already scribbled over, but with my note-book I can make extensive changes. I even managed to make a very simple colour-changing potion, albeit with help; my first few drafts would have blown up." Hermione looked impressed and likely would have grabbed the encyclopedia if I wasn't holding onto it. Harry looked interested too. I handed him the bigger book (I measured it; it's got five inches of pages), and Hermione the notebook. She had gotten out her potions book and was starting to compare my recipes to the official versions.

Within five minutes we were comparing the recipes together and I was explaining to the two of them my thoughts on them. We picked through the potions book and half an hour later Harry and Hermione were starting to modify their first potion; a cream for the removal of calluses.

We were all on the floor with all of our potions books out, when the door opened. Standing there was a fidgeting, slightly pudgy, blond wizard. "Errr, h-hi." He stuttered. He gulped, clearly very nervous. "H-Have you seen a toad. My toad's gone and I err, well... Can't find him." So this is Neville. Doesn't look like much, but one thing stands out to me. He's clearly terrified, but he's still gone walking along the train looking for his toad. I remember one of my favourite sayings; bravery is not lack of fear, but the overcoming of fear. Based on this alone, Neville's a true Gryffindor.

"What's the toad's name?" I ask.

"T-Trevor." He replies.

I draw my wand and cast my first spell of the day. "_Accio Trevor the toad_." I feel my magic reach out and _grab_. Wonderful. "You may want to step in." He does so just in time as a toad zooms through the door into my empty hand. "I present Trevor the toad."

He smiles at me in relief. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Do you have to go back to your compartment, or can you stay here?"

"I - I can stay here." He says, his eyes wide in surprise. Merlin, I'm the only one here with self-confidence.

"Come on in then and shut the door." He does so and awkwardly sits on the floor, joining us. "This is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and I'm Aquila Black." He freezes up, either at Harry's name or mine. Ah, mine - his eyes dart to me quickly, which I pretend not to notice. "What's yours?"

"N-Neville Longbottom." There's a round of hellos around the compartment. When they stop, a moment of silence fills the room before I speak up. "We're looking into potions and trying to think of ways to change the recipes. Do you know why the dandelion ash in the cream for curing calluses has to be from young daffodils?" His eyes almost light up as we cross onto a subject that he knows and loves; herbology. Excellent.

The four minute talk on dandelions and the effects and uses in potions is honestly amazing - it's more than I know about them, and cements his place as a herbology prodigy. With that, the ice is broken, and we fall into an easy dynamic where Neville knows the herbs, Hermione knows the Potions, I know the common potion mistakes and Harry is the one who is actually gifted with potions; I'll have to make sure Snape doesn't crush that.

Hours later, we've moved past potions and are now into clothes of all things. We're comparing wizarding and muggle clothes, and the things that magic can do to them. Hermione had done her _repairo_ trick on Harry's glasses after I explain how that spell doesn't work well on fabric. We also talk about the different 'fashion' between the two cultures; mine and Nevilles clothes are clearly not machine made, for example. Harry's clearly uncomfortable by this point due to wearing Dudley's cast-offs, so I take his hand and pull him out the door into the corridor. A quick look is all I get from the other two - they're both smart, so they've noticed Harry's fidgeting. Thankfully the corridor is empty.

I could never think of a good way to break the subject, so I decided to be blunt. "You don't like the clothes that you're wearing, do you?" He looked up in shock, before staring at his shoes.

"They're fine," he protested halfheartedly.

"Yeah, 'fine' to you clearly means 'about to fall apart.'" He cringed, so I take his hand and stroke it. He still jerks at the touch. At the back of my mind I note that as _not a good sign_. "Lucky for you, I have spare clothes that will fit you." He looks up in shock. "They aren't my size, but I was given them so I couldn't exactly turn them away. I dislike wasting things that can be used, so I brought them in my trunk hoping to give them to someone who could use them." Lies. Well, about how I got them. Me disliking throwing away useful stuff is true. I'm a pack-rat that way.

"Uh... I couldn't accept-" He's clearly not used to getting gifts.

"Look, Harry. You're rich, and I'm richer, so this isn't a big deal for me. And if me giving you a gift troubles you that much, look at it as a late birthday present. Especially since we're family." His head shoots up to stare me in the eyes in shock.

"Your grandmother is Dorea Black. Hello Cousin." His mouth curled into a surprised smile. "Neville's your godbrother too - Your mothers were best friends in Hogwarts, and your mothers are the others' godmothers. It's just a shame you couldn't grow up together." His mouth was in a full grin now. "Wait one moment." I open the door and step in. A quick rummage through my trunk later and I have the correct wrapped package. I step out again, closing the door. I hand the package to Harry. "Happy belated birthday, Harry."

Harry's starting to get teary, and clearly doesn't want me to see. "Thank you."

"Now, lets find a toilet and let you get changed." It takes less than a minute - there's one each carriage. He goes in while I wait outside. Ten seconds later, I start to wonder if there's a deity watching my life.

"Heir Malfoy." I announce, stopping him (and his bodyguards) as he walks past. "My name is Aquila Black, it's a pleasure to meet you." My surname is what truly grabs his attention. He takes hold of my outstretched hand and places a kiss on it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Heir Black." He knows who I am, good. That will make things easier. "How are you finding the trip so far, my cousin?"

"Interesting. I've met an _interesting_ group of people."

"Oh? And who might that be?" He asks, faithfully following the cue.

"Hermione Granger, an intelligent muggleborn, Neville Longbottom, who seems to be a herbology prodigy, and the boy-who-lived himself, Harry Potter." Now I truly got his interest.

"Seems like an excellent choice of companions, if not for the mudblood." I grimace.

"Now Draco - I may call you Draco, yes?" He nods. "Don't be so uncouth, it's below our station to use such ugly words. We are sophisticated, we should not lower ourselves to base insults." He grits his teeth slightly at my reprimand, but jerks his head to show he gets his point. "Besides, why insult them? That'll just make them unhappy, and unhappy subordinates are unproductive subordinates." I've practiced for this conversation, and I glad of it. These words will set the tone of the rest of my interaction with Draco, and I only get one shot with this. "And like I said, she's a smart one. She'll get good book grades, and you know that the Dumbledore will love that. She's got brains; it doesn't make her any better, just makes her more useful."

"True, I just don't like it when the mud-muggleborns get ideas above their station." I've appeased him, but not yet convinced him.

"The solution there is to make them happy where they are. And if they're clever, well; you put them to work doing more complex work. But we are of pure blood Draco. We are inherently better, so there's no need to fear them." I wonder if this is how Lucius feels when talking to Fudge. It's easy to manipulate the poor boy. Of course, Draco's eleven; Fudge doesn't have that excuse.

"Won't treating them well give them the impression that you like them?" He asked.

"Well, yes, but what's that harm in that? It'll just make them more likely to like you. And people always do more for people they like." At that point the bathroom door opens, and Harry steps through. He's almost a different person; it's true that the clothes make the man. He's wearing black trousers with a white shirt, while green highlights on the cloth bring out his eyes. The enchanted comb from the package has gotten his hair straight, and he's no longer slumped. Unfortunately, he's clearly heard the entire conversation, and his eyes are burning with fury and confusion at my seeming duplicity. I slip my hand through his left arm and lean close. "Play along," I whisper in his ear. I straighten back up and formally introduce the two of them. "Heir Malfoy, this is Heir Potter, a friend." Draco's glance at me tells me that's he's caught me informally allying my house with Harry's, but it doesn't affect his reply.

"Heir Potter it is an honour to meet you." He holds out his hand.

Harry shakes it. A glance at him tells me he doesn't want to, but only because I spent the last few hours carefully watching him. To Draco's eyes, he likely looks like a 'proper pureblood.' "Heir Malfoy. Likewise."

"I'm glad you two are getting along. Two such powerful people should always work together to accomplish even greater things than you could alone. After all, you are your own men, and do not need to rely on others for your strength." A lie and (to Harry) blatant flattery, but Draco laps it up. It prevents Draco from making any presumptuous offers of 'guidance,' especially since I'm already here; to do so now would imply both that I am ignorant (for not being able to provide guidance) and Harry weak (for needing said guidance). If only I was a seer, then my glimpses of the future would continue to provide me with help like this.

For now though, it's time to separate them before Harry explodes or Malfoy does something insulting. "It's been a pleasure to meet you Draco. I'll see you at Hogwarts." I did a slight bow.

"And it has been a pleasure meeting you Aquila, Heir Potter." He bowed to us.

"And it has been a pleasure meeting you, Heir Malfoy." Harry stiffly bowed.

Ten seconds later, I pulled Harry into an empty compartment and waited. It only took one second, though he wasn't as forceful as I expected. Not confident enough, I suppose. "What was that? I mean, you're friendly with Hermione when you're with her, but then you meet _Draco_ and suddenly you're all high and mighty, and insulting Hermione behind her back as 'lesser.'"

"Firstly, I want you to know that I don't believe that. I believe she is just as capable a witch as Draco is, if not more. The only difference being directly descended from wizards does is give your magic talents in certain ways. However, that was not about me liking Hermione. It was not about me not liking Draco. That was about politics."

Harry's lip curls. "Politics?" He asks, disgust filling his voice.

"Yes. Think about what I just achieved Harry. Firstly, Draco will treat muggleborn better. His reasons don't matter, all that matters is that he does. That's significant antagonism removed from our year. That'll have a knock-on effect on all of Slytherin house, which is known for treating muggleborns poorly. It might even have a knock-on effect on his father, who is the most important pro-pureblood politician in Europe. Second, it'll establish me as a moderate; The light, or liberalist, side will like me for not being bigoted, while the dark, or traditionalist, side will like me for supposedly viewing purebloods as 'better.' That's significant political opposition removed from my path, no matter what I decide to do.

It'll even affect you three, as Hermione will be viewed as 'under my wing,' kind of like a personal aide. Neville won't have to worry about Slytherins going after him for being an easy target - he's got the friendship of a Black, and we're known for being vindictive against those who hurt our friends. And you are the _boy-who-lived_, who has been made into the poster-child for the light side since that Halloween night. Never mind that you were a baby at the time; Dumbledore, the leader of the liberalists, decided that your parent's deaths made you the perfect example of someone who fought against the dark and sacrificed everything. The fact that you were a baby, and thus couldn't have any views _at all_ made you _perfect_ for that. What I just did, established you as a moderate. It'll take time, but people won't see you as Dumbledore's boy.

It even made Malfoy more open to cooperation from us. Malfoys are schemers. They plot and they plan. Right now, Malfoy is thinking on how we can make his plots and plans even greater. And when he asks us how to 'put mudbloods in their place,' we can turn that into a 'make muggleborns happy where they want to be.' What's more, Draco is now thinking of striking out on his own; he'll rely on advice from his master politician of a father far less now. That means any schemes he comes up with will be far more easy to disrupt; with independence comes far fewer resources."

By the end of my little speech Harry's mouth is hanging open. It should; I've been planning out my political position for almost a decade. The one I've chosen should allow me to gain friends and allies across the political spectrum. And both the previous conversation and my 'little' explanation have been practiced until I had them memorised, they were that important. After all, the past twenty minutes have helped set the tone for my social and political interactions for the rest of my life. Draco was important not because of what he knew, but _who_ he knew.

"I..." He's lost for words. I giggle at him, spoiling my serious image. "That's... amazing."

"Thank you." I smile at him. "I hope you paid attention though, because as the boy-who-lived, you're going to have to deal with politics." His grimace turns my smile into a grin, and I hugged him. He froze, which I ignored. When he untensed (it took a while), I said softly into his ear. "I don't want you to be mad at me. You, Neville and Hermione are the only friends I have my age." Emotional manipulation, but true. And this is the first hug he's had since being a baby, I don't want it corrupted by anger.

"I... It's alright. You're my first friend, and I don't want to be mad at you." First friend at eleven. That's sad. No wonder he was so willing to forgive Ron in the OTL. He's almost awkward in the hug, but he clearly wanted it. I held him for a while more, and then let go after a minute, after he had surreptitiously dried his eyes.

"Come on, let's get back to the others."

It was in the last hour that the last big train subject came up; Hogwarts Houses.

Hermione spoke up. "I was thinking Ravenclaw for my house, but it doesn't seem like any of you are for that house."

"We'll still be friends, even if or when we're in different houses," I assured her. "It's done, just not often."

"I'll probably be going to Hufflepuff,' moped Neville.

"Good for you." I said. He looked at me in confusion. I've never got why they're looked down on. Loyalty and hard work? Seems to me like they're tailor made for great friends."

"Yeah, but my gran wants me to get into Gryffindor, like my parents. I'm not brave enough though, I'm too afraid of everything." I scoffed loudly at that.

"Neville, bravery isn't the absence of fear, it's the overcoming of it. You went from door to door looking for your toad, despite shaking in your shoes. In that moment, you were one of the bravest people on the train." He smiled, encouraged. "But you shouldn't go because you're gran wants you to. From what you've said about her, she seems to be wanting you to turn into your father. I can tell you, good parents don't want their children to be carbon copies of them. And I can tell you you're parents would have wanted you be your own person, with you're own priorities. And Hufflepuff is known for prioritising their friends above all. I don't know about you, but that seems like a darn good trait to me." He grinned, clearly buoyed up by my pep talk. "Personally I hope to get into Hufflepuff, though Slytherin seems more likely for me. Though maybe Ravenclaw."

Harry blinked in shock. Hagrid's comments about Slytherin clearly running through his mind. "Why? Don't dark wizards come from there?" I laugh lightly.

"Harry, dark wizards come from every house. It's just that most of the active ones come from Slytherin. A lot of dark wizards come from Ravenclaw too, it's just they only do it for the forbidden knowledge. And that reputation is why I would prefer Hufflepuff; who would expect a 'cunning duffer?' Slytherin are also known for rejecting muggleborns. I checked, and there hasn't been a muggleborn Slytherin for decades." Since a certain Tom Riddle, officially. Although considering his heritage, he doesn't actually count, though considering what a squib his mother was maybe he should. "And Gryffindor's definitely out for me. They're known for being brave and honourable. While I can be brave, I prefer to avoid fights and stab them in the back, which is definitely not honourable. Hufflepuff's good for me for the same reason; I value my friends over what society says I should and should not do. And Gryffindor's the poster boys for the 'light' too. They're supposedly the 'heroic' house to Slytherin's 'evil' house."

"I was thinking Gryffindor, but it seems like Hufflepuff would suit me better," said Harry. Just what I was hoping for. "I value my friends more than what some politician says." He looks at me when he says this, and I grin at him for it.

At that point, the train slowed down and we got off, having already changed.

I stood in a bundled line of nervous children as we waited to enter the hall. I was perhaps the only one not shuffling or fidgeting, and even then I was barely keeping a hold of my nerves. Hermione was talking about the Hogwarts ghosts that had come through to a shaken Harry.

"How are you so calm?" whispered Neville.

"I'm not calm." I said softly back, Harry and Hermione hearing. "I'm just pretending to be. I suggest you three the same." He gulped, and stood back. The three of them started to start breathe slower, just in time for McGonagall to come through and usher us into the great hall.

It was a magnificent place, and I made sure to take everything in. The song's hat jarred me and I listed along, humming along with it once I got the tune. Hannah Abbot was called first, poor girl. She took a couple of seconds before going to Hufflepuff and then...

"Black, Aquila." I took a deep breath and strode out across the great hall. My name had caused whispers; "She's Sirius Black's daughter," or "I heard she was actually Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter." Soon enough, I was sitting on the stool.

Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Huffle-.

_**Oh no, not-so-little one. It may work that way for younger minds, but your mind is not so one-dimensional. You can't just trick me into putting you where you want me to.**_

Isn't that what you are supposed to do?

**_No. I have two purposes. To help students become all they can be, and to protect the wizarding world._**

I'm slightly surprised by the last statement, but when I think on it, who better to watch over the world than the one who saw them as children?

**_Exactly. Students may be able to sway me into choosing a different house for them, but the wizarding world is my responsibility. And you..._**

Me what?

_**You have so much potential. But it is only potential, and to force you would achieve nothing. So you have a choice. Save your Friends... Or Save the World.**_

But.. I... I can't...

_**You can choose, and you already have. You have only to acknowledge it to yourself.**_

I... Very well... The world. I'm always a _greater good_ person, in the end. Because I'm never a good person.

_**I wish I could say your sacrifice will be remembered with honour, but it won't. Not where you're going in...**_

"SLYTHERIN!"

I take off the hat and blink at the light, before stepping towards the green table. It is applauding me, the only one to do so. The next seven years are not going to be fun.

I applaud the next few, making sure to particularly congratulate those who choose Slytherin. And then...

"Granger, Hermione." She goes up, and sits. And sits. And sits. She sits for a very long time, and as the minutes pass I start to get a bad feeling. Neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff would would be this hard for her to get into. I _know_ she fits Gryffindor. The only reason for her sorting to take this long is-

"SLYTHERIN!" Clapping begins at my table as they automatically applaud to the word, but it is halfhearted at best. Meanwhile, I am having a minor panic attack.

Shit, shite, merde. I should have known that saying muggleborns don't go into Slytherin would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. I pat the place next to me, which is thankfully still empty. As she sits grinning with triumph, I lean into her, ignoring the rest of the sorting. "Hermione, stay silent and listen. I don't know if you know what you've done, but you've kicked the snake nest. You've done the equivalent of a jew living with a bunch of nazis. From now in, you're in danger." Her smile starts to fade, and her eyes are starting to widen. "From now on, don't expect help from more than a quarter of the school. The occasional Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw will help, but they will be outnumbered by the number of Pureblood Slytherins who are disgusted to share the same air with you, and would happily kill and rape you if they could away with it. And now you'll you'll be living in the same dorm as them!" I barely notice when Neville is called up. "Your best bet is to act as my subordinate when in public. Think personal aide." She opened her mouth. "_Don't speak_." She shut her mouth, as 'SLYTHERIN!' is called out in the distance. "I won't expect it in private, and you won't have to do much in public, just as long as you make sure not to argue with me where other people can see. If they think you're under my control, _regardless of whether you are or not_, then maybe, just _maybe_, you'll _survive the next few years_." I'm terrified for the foolish little girl, and she can hear it in my voice.

"She's right." I jolt at the familiar voice and there, opposite me, is Neville. Neville Longbottom, a Slytherin. Oh merlin. I don't know if that's better or worse. At least he'll be there to help me protect Hermione. I glance at the hat just in time to see Harry go under it. I'm filled with dread and-

"SLYTHERIN!"

Shit shite merde.

**A/N: So, this a gender-bent Self-Insert. To those of you wondering why, well... I was reading a Harry Potter SI one day, and thought to myself 'why aren't there more dark/evil self-inserts'? There's a few, but often the ones where they take over the world/area/dimension or kill/torture/enslave people are either crack, or overpowered. So I turned to the morbid idea of how to turn myself into a dark lord. And when I was writing, I started wondering if me being female would help that along. Hence, Aquila. And can I just say, describing a Black is hell, because all the canon Blacks' appearances sound like Mary/Gary Sues (pre-Azkaban, anyway).**

**Expect the almighty butterfly to make many changes. As an example; In 1989, Ludo Bagman was late for an healer's check-up. As a result, he never got to talk to Amelia Weathers as she left the office beforehand, and thus he never dated her. When she became the secretary of Cornelius Fudge six months later, she thus did not give Ludo Bagman a meeting with the Minister of Magic. So when Ludo Bagman ran for the position of Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he was instead passed over for Marvin Montague. End Result: Expect the Triwizard Tournament to have different tasks.**

**All caused by a nine-year old Aquila Black tripping over a shoe.**


	2. Lessons

**A/N: I don't own Harry potter or anything you recognise.**

**Any differences with the canon class schedule are because of the butterfly effect, not in any way because I can't be bothered to go over the books to find them.**

_I don't know who I am anymore. Everyone and everything tells me I'm four, but I remember decades. I'm not even a metre in height, yet have memories of bumping my head on ceilings. I've never been in the muggle world, but I have knowledge of physics and chemistry._

_Something's not right. I've always been smart and picked things up quickly, but this...? I haven't told anyone, but they've noticed something's off. How could they not? They're job is picking up on people's desires, and I'm becoming a new person. Or maybe an old person. I've started going through the library here, trying to find reasons for what's happening to me. Everyone thinks I'm merely looking at the 'pretty pictures' to join in on what the adults are doing. I don't tell them I can remember definitions to words I've never heard._

_I did my best to spread out my reading, to not give them a clue. I've been skimming the books, just looking at subject titles. Magicks of the mind, soul and eyes. Obliviation, legilimency, occlumency. Pensieves, false memories, compulsions... I have new memories, but no way to have them. They're muggle memories of a muggle man, yet they hold arcane knowledge. They tell me of the third millenium while we have yet to exit the second._

_As best I can tell, it was a past life and something's gone _wrong_. Whatever barrier held that back, that prevents people from remembering, failed. And now I have memories of the man that never was spilling into the girl that should be._

_I don't know who I am anymore._

BUZZ!

My eyes flew open and I slammed my head on the wall by the left side of my bed. I moaned and rolled off the other side. "Damn it. Okay, first things first. Makes sure that doesn't happen again." I spent a couple of minutes centering myself (and calming my headache), before reaching my hands out towards the bed. "_Lift_." The bed shakily rose an inch off the floor. "and _pull_." It scraped across the ground towards me. Six inches. Twelve, eighteen... Two feet... Sweat poured down my head as my body burned with the effort of channeling my magic.

Two minutes later, it reach four feet from the back wall, putting it halfway across the; opposite the closet with my desk of the left wall, my door in the right corner and a waist-high bookcase between my bed and the door. I decided to use my body to move the side table beside my bed; it would go on the side facing the door, while my marble collection would go on top of it.

By this point I was burning up slightly and sweating like mad. I felt pins and needles all over, and I was shivering. The bed was the heaviest thing I'd lifted in ages, and that time was only a weight to test out my maximum limits. I turned around only to find my door had been opened since I woke up; standing there with a wide open mouth was Hermione. I closed my eyes and grimaced. Shit. I opened my eyes to see her about to speak; instead I pulled her into my room and shut the door.

"Quiet." She shut her mouth; she was getting good at that. Now if only I could keep it going. Luckily, I'd (sort-of) planned for this. Hermione was the sort to defer to authority figures. If she could see me as one (or at least as an expert) she would be more likely to listen to me. By the time I broke her of that habit, she should have enough common sense to not need me to take care of her.

I sat down on the bed, calming my shaking. She was looking at me in concern now. "What you just saw me do is wandless magic. It is very difficult to do, and requires an age of practice; what you just saw is the result of thousands of hours of work." I've been working on my telekinesis since I was a baby; exercising my magic was a good way to spend the time when bored. "I can't do much; only telekinesis and making body parts glow." A kinda-failed attempt at a wandless _lumos; o_nly really useful when going to the toilet at night or trying to intimidate someone. I tried it full-body once and immediately stopped; if I looked fae-like before I could easily fit in while glowing. "You can't tell anyone I can do it. Not students, not teachers, not parents." She opened her mouth to object but stopped when I glared at her. "This is _my_ secret, and I'm _trusting_ you with this." Not quite, as I'm planning on being near her for most the year anyway. "Do you remember what I said last night?" She turned slightly pale and nodded. "Did you wake up in the middle of the night and hear scuffling outside your door?" She nodded again, confused. "That was two sixth-years and a seventh year." She turned outright white, her mind connecting the dots. "The only reason they didn't get in was that I was waiting for them. The wards on the doors for our rooms aren't enough to keep out determined NEWT students. And the only reason I was able to take them out was that I was waiting for them." Gotta love string; muggle alarms are always the best ways to trick wizards. "And my telekinesis was the only reason I was able to succeed. If they had known I had it, they would have planned for it and I would have lost." I wouldn't have been a match for even a single fourth-year in a straight up fight.

"I assume you know what would have happened then. Especially since I would have likely 'enjoyed' the same fate you would have." She nodded once more, her face now ashen. Good, I'm getting through to her. For all her blustering and bossiness, she still an eleven-year old girl. She's even slightly naive, but she's read enough books to know the world isn't an entirely rosy place. "The professors couldn't have stopped it; all evidence would have disappeared the following morning. clothes repaired, beds cleaned, memories erased." I'm painting a horror story here and she's filling in the blanks. I wish I didn't have to do this but I've never thought naivety was something to treasure. "The only thing that would be different, is that there would be two less virgins in the school. And you would have no idea why." God, I'm hoping I don't make her paranoid, but it's not paranoia if they really are out to get you. And I'm going to have to talk with Harry soon too, joy. "Magic is a wonderful, terrible thing. And the only way to protect yourself from it, is to know it." It wasn't quite ending on a high note, but is was ending on something she was familiar with; learning. Her face filling with a burning determination told me I had done the right thing; she wasn't going to end up a scared little mouse hoping no-one noticed her. She wasn't going to end up a lackey, hanging on to my coat-tails in the hopes that I protect her from the big bad world. No, she was Hermione Granger; if learning magic helped to protect her, well... She'd always been good at learning.

It is at breakfast that I am reminded of an important fact. When Snape (_professor_ Snape) gave us our schedules, he glared at me. I looked back at him, but as just before I met his look, I remembered a very important fact about him. _Legilimency_. I did not have some mythical natural occlumency barrier (from my reading as a kid, I did not think such a thing existed). Nor did I have the sheer magical power required to make reading my mind an onerous task. The only defenses my mind had was - Merlin I love that hair. It's kinda like mine, but it's so sleek I couldn't help but dream of running my hands through it last night. I feel kinda tingly when he looks at me, the amount of focus his eyes have when they look at you, and that _sneer_! It makes me heat up and think of all the ways he could - _BLECH!_

Ok, he moved on. By the disgusted sneer on his lips either he saw my thoughts and thought me disgusting, or didn't and still thinks me disgusting. Either way, I'm happy. Of course, I won't be acting the same (probably), but such a first impression will still be useful.. As long as he doesn't think of me as a prankster, he won't be on the look out for me to trick him.

Poor Harry doesn't know about it though, so when he looks up to Snape... huh, Snape flinched. It was tiny, but it was definitely there. Why... oh, Lily's eyes. Of course. Well that's interesting. Guess he's not the complete monster some people think he is. People rarely are, after all.

He's moved on now, having passed out the schedules. I double check Harry's and make sure that we've all got the same one; yup.

"We've got charms first!" Said an excited Hermione from where she was sat next to Neville across the table. She's vibrating in her seat now. In fairness, it's magic. Our first class is a magic class, where we get to learn magic. I'm excited, but she... well, I suppose she hasn't grown up around magic, so it wouldn't seem so normal to her. "It says in the books-."

I cut her off gently. "Hermione, we've all read those books, there's no need to tell us." She looks a bit put down now. "We know you're smart Hermione, and it's not the reason we're friends with you." She looks shocked for a moment before breaking out into a radiant smile. "Alright everyone, let's go. We still need to get our books."

We made our way back to Slytherin house. It's easy enough and once there we go to our rooms. I'm so glad we get separate ones, it'll make keeping secrets so much easier. Which is the point, I suppose. Us four have managed to grab a dead end, so Harry and Hermione (as the two greatest targets) have their rooms between a wall and and Neville and I. On my other side is Blaise Zabini, an Italian boy who shows signs of becoming a Casanova even at this age; must take after his mother.

On Neville's other side is Daphne Greengrass, then Tracy Davis. Between us we have one dorm corridor to ourselves as the 'neutrals.' Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, Millicent and Nott are in another one. From what I can tell this arrangement is normal in Slytherin. All I care is that it means more of a walk for our enemies to get to us, and that anyone walking past Greengrass' and Zabini's doors is either one of us, or an enemy. Should make things so much simpler, especially as the pair of bathrooms at either end of the corridor means that all we need to be self-sufficient would be a supply of food. Hmm, wonder if I could get a magi-fridge here? I'll have to see if the house elves are willing to help. Have to meet them first, of course.

A quick rummage in our trunks and we're all set. We just about manage to catch the Slytherin prefect who is taking us to Charms; something I am incredibly grateful for.

Professor Flitwick is a brilliant teacher. Funny, witty, engaging... I paid attention when he fell of the books at Harry's name and he never made a sound touching the floor. It was an act, but it was a good one and broke the tension.

Following that, we broke into pairs and began casting. Well, trying to. Some of us got it down immediately, while others had trouble. As I was paired with Neville, I got to help him out."Neville, you're not trying."

"But-."

"Sorry, that came out wrong. You're trying, but all you're doing is saying the words and hoping. That's not enough, you have to _want it_. It's magic Neville, it's from you. You've got magic, you and I both know it, otherwise you wouldn't be here." You'd be dead after being thrown out a window, I thought sardonically. "Picture it in your mind Neville. Don't say anything, just do it. Now think about it, _want_ it." I thought I could see a faint glow at the end of the wand already. "Now don't just say the words. _Cast them._"

"_Lumos_." The resulting flash shocked the classroom into silence, before Professor Flitwick started clapping. "Bravo, bravo you two. Take five points for a well cast lumos charm Mr Longbottom, and fifteen points to you Miss Black, for understanding the true lesson so well." Everyone turned to him in confusion, and I would remember the following lecture for the rest of my days...

"Lumos. As you can see, my just saying lumos didn't light the wand. It's not words that matter. It's all about the mind. If I intend it - _lumos_ - my wand lights up. If I make sure to think about it and picture it in my mind - Oops, sorry, a bit too bright there. But as you can see; I don't even need words. And neither, eventually, will you. Magic isn't about words and wand movements. Magic is about the power of the _soul._ When you use words, you speak to the world and when you wave your wand you are showing it what to do. But at the end of the day, it is _you_ casting the spell. It's how you did accidental magic; you _wanted_ it, and you _made it happen_. The wand isn't needed, it only helps. You have all seen wandless magic; apparition, where we move from one spot to another, is a matter of willpower and desire. Wands aren't needed for that. _We_ are magic, and we should _never _forget that."

Compared to Charms, I knew Herbology would be a let down. I was right, but it was damn close...

"Hello everyone, grab a table and sit down, there you go, just like that. Now, you're all here because of plants, yes? And I bet you're all wondering why bother, right? What can plants do? How are they _magic_? Well, I could bore you with talks about how dangerous they can be; about the Venomous Tentacula can take your hand off as easily as you tear parchment. I could give you a lecture on how Fairy Flowers have healing properties, about how Kingsfoil can help keep at bay the most virulent of poisons. No, what I'm going to tell you, is what you can do with Herbology. After all, in seven years you'll all be gone into the big bad world, and believe me those years will fly by. And right now you're wondering why you should spend those seven years learning about plants. Well, let me tell you about a friend of mine.

Adric Adenberry is one of the worlds most talented herbologists. He's known for having an encyclopedic memory; he can recognise rare plants at a glance, instantly remembering their traits and dangers. You might never meet a more knowledgeable man, nor one who loves plants more. I spent my summer with him on an expedition to South America to collect a rare medical plant known as Bloodweed. It's rare because it only ever grows on ground where blood has been spilled. And by spilled, I don't mean a drop or two. I don't even mean a slaughterhouse. Hundreds of men need to have died on the same spot for Bloodweed to even _try_ to grow.

I don't suppose any of you know a place in South America like that do you? Ah, I see two of you do. The Aztec temples, where they sacrificed to their gods. And to get there, we had to hire two teams of curse breakers, a team of trackers and four squads of mercenaries. The expedition, looking for plants? We spent more time fighting off the local Aztec shamans than we did digging up herbs. We fought Blood Magic. We fought storms and hurricanes. At one point, we fought off a nundu. For those of you who don't know, a nundu is a magical house sized leopard with a whole list of dangerous traits, like plague breath, intelligence and diamond sharp claws. And if you're all wondering how I'm still here, well... You might have heard about how nundus are practically spell-proof? A simple devil's snare, a dark place to plant it, a couple of growing charms... It's amazing what plants can do, isn't it?"

Lunch was filled with chatter about the classes and excitement as to what was next. The first two classes had been amazing after all and if I hadn't known who was teaching next I'd have been more excited. After all, goblin wars, giant battles... If plants were fascinating, imagine what magical history would be like?

Unfortunately we all found out. It was a giant let down, and even the Ravenclaws were dozing by the end of the lesson. I was one of two people still fully awake, the other (of course) being Hermione. She was the only one listening to the ghostly professor though; I had taken out my current reading material; _Simple Spells for the Simple Student_. Despite it's name, it was an excellent book, reminding me of the 'for dummies' series in the muggle world. It gave a list of basic spells and some tips and tricks as to how to get the most use out of them. During that lesson I read about the dusting charm. It could be used for its obvious purpose, but it would be easier if you pictured the place clean. It could be used to mop up liquids that hadn't soaked in, if you focused the charm to drop the 'dust' onto a rag. Putting extra power into it allowed it to scour hard surfaces.

Brilliant book.

Hermione looked like she was about to berate us when the class let out, so I silenced her (Merlin, that two-finger trick is good), and brought the three of them to an abandoned classroom I had noticed on my way to class. Once there, she exploded. "Why didn't you pay attention? He's a professor, and just because he's not the best is no reason to ignore him!"

Neville and Harry shifted awkwardly, like two little boys that had been caught doing something wrong (which, technically, they were). I spoke up. "Hermione, Binns has been dead for over a century. I'm pretty sure he taught the headmaster. He doesn't notice us. If we moved the classroom, it's _extremely _debatable as to whether he would notice. _You_ can learn from books and lectures, that's good for you. But not everyone learns like that. Binns voice is monotonous, and if you listen to a sleep tape, you'll notice the same thing." By this point the boys had let out breaths, having escaped Hermione's scolding, but then I turned to them. "However, that's no reason just to sleep. We can sleep during night, but Binn's class is an excellent time to get stuff done that you don't want to be disturbed on. Once we get homework, we can do it during his class. If we don't have that, we can always read up on spells." Hermione looked torn now; on the one hand, we would still be ignoring the teacher, but on the other we would be doing work.

"Personally, I learnt a new spell. _Rapit_." To my faint surprise the spell worked and half the dust on the desk I had been pointing my wand at jump into one pile. Unfortunately the pile then collapsed on itself, falling off the table and onto the ground. I grinned anyway. "A couple of hours of practise and I should have it. I'll have learnt a new spell." I looked at the boys. "What magic did you learn this lesson?" I had to break the habit of avoiding learning where they could. I don't know about Neville, but canon Harry did that a lot. I don't know if it was because of the Dursleys, or because of Ron, but I _would_ break that habit. In muggle school it could be OK. In Hogwarts? Not only was it _magic_ (which is a reason to learn all by itself), but Voldemort was out there. I was not going to let Harry sacrifice himself because there was no other option. No, I was going to build us up, _by hook or by crook_, until we could face the best the wizarding world had to offer.

But for now...

"Let's go exploring!"

"What's this?" asked Harry, peeking into a room full of weird dark objects.

"I think it's an armoury," answered Neville. "See, look at this," he pointed at a striped black and blue cylinder. "That's an ice launcher. They were used by muggle auxiliaries back before the statute of secrecy." We looked at him, surprised. Even I hadn't known that. He smiled sheepishly. "House Longbottom employed a them to guard our fields, and Gran made sure I learnt my House history."

"I wonder if they still work?" Wondered Hermione. "Do you know how?" She asked Neville.

"No, I just know about them. It wouldn't be good to fire it in here anyway. They're ranged weapons, and they affected whatever was near where they shot; if we fired it here we'd all get frozen by it." I wonder if it has safety charms? Quite possibly not; growing up in the wizarding world has shown me they have no real concept of 'work safety.' Even child safety is hit-or-miss and normally only ever applied by parents if at all.

Harry wandered over to a shiny grey shield and lifted it with a groan. "Blimey this thing is heavy." he shifted it onto one arm using the strap I could see on its back, but he still supported it with his other hand. "Hey Hermione, fire that spark spell at me." Thanks to my prompting, we had all shown each other what spells we knew; it wasn't much. I knew summoning, levitating, banishing, lumos, the dusting charm, a weak stunning spell (I couldn't even get a range of one foot with it) and the tickling charm. Hermione knew repairo, lumos and the spark charm. Harry just knew lumos, while Neville could do lumos and a very weak aguamenti (which I was impressed by; it was a fourth-year spell - he had admitted to doing it for his plants, which didn't surprise any of us).

Hermione took a bit of winning over, but eventually she carefully leveled her wand at Harry and incanted "_Scintilla_." A bright blue spark flew across the room and impacted Harry in the center of the shield. It then bounced off and flew right back towards Hermione and only Neville's dive was enough to push her out of the way. It carried on through where I had been only a moment ago to impact the wall, where it left a faint scorch mark that quickly faded away. After a few seconds of heavy breathing, we all stood up again, meeting a sheepish Harry's eyes.

"Um, oops?" he grinned unsurely. In a transparent attempt to get out of trouble, he changed the subject. "Do you know why it doesn't have a - what''s it called? The picture knights had for their houses?"

"Heraldry, Harry." Answered Hermione. She was obviously still annoyed with Harry, but not enough to ignore the interesting question. "And yes, it's odd that it doesn't have one. Maybe it's because of the magic in it?" The magic in it, hmm... That's an idea.

"Harry, are you aware of you magic of or how to channel it?" He shook his head. "Pass over the shield to me will you?" The shield was even heavier than Harry made it look; the boy has surprising strength in that thin frame of his. I could barely lift it. But I did, putting my left arm through the strap and holding the inner handle with my hand. I then concentrated and centered myself. I slowly pulled my magic together and _pushed_ it into the shield. A gasp from the other three told me something had happened and a glance into a mirror on the wall told me what.

The shield was no longer grey, but instead bore the black crest. A skull on top, with a knight's sword held by a snake over a green background, above ravens on silver, a blue chevron dividing them. Along the bottom of the shield lay the words _Toujours Purs_. "I guess this proves I'm a Black. Though I don't remember there being a snake? Oh well." I muttered to myself. I looked up and grinned at the others. "Channeling magic through it changes it to fit the wielder. I'm a Black, so it shows the Black crest." I saw Hermione mouthing the motto. "The motto means 'always pure.' Traditionally its about the purity of magic, and not tainted ourselves by mixing our blood with those without. That used to mean never marrying muggles, but since The Great War it stretched against muggleborns as well."

"Why then?" Asked Harry. I looked at Neville, wondering if he knew. He shook his head, and I knew Hermione had not been in the magical world long enough to find out yet, so I prepared to give an impromptu history lesson.

"In what is known by the muggles as the two world wars, a dark lord known as Grindelwald rose to power. He supported the Germans in both wars, and in between the two he was the cause of what muggles know as the great depression. It was the greatest wizarding conflict since the creation of the statute of secrecy. One of his greatest enemies was the Russian Empire. Their battlemages were among the best in the world when it came to defence due to their mastery of winter and transfiguration. One of their favourite tactics was to summon a blizzard and then transfigure dozen of arctic wolves to attack convoys. Because of that, the Russian Empire enjoyed almost complete immunity to enemy invasions. The only reason the Germans did _not_ immediately fall to the Russian army was because the Magical arm of the Russian Empire did not join the war till 1916; before then it wasn't even certain a dark lord existed. When we found out about him the Russian Magicals joined in and crushed the German army, leading to defeat after defeat for months.

In that time, Grindelwald had infiltrated the Russian community. Grindelwald knew that any heavy magic would be detected so he used lightly spelled muggle weaponry. The muggleborn, who were treated as serfs by the Russians, were a ready-made army. On the 30th of December, 1916, they assaulted Magical Russia. Bombs in their shopping districts, snipers shooting into their houses... Grigori Rasputin, the leader of Magical Russia, was assassinated, as was every single one of his ruling council. The entire empire fell to ruins over a single night, with magical libraries and manors burned down by infernally enchanted muggle flamethrowers. Charmed artillery was fired into housing, killing dozens with each shot. In twenty four hours, the magical population of Russia, one of the densest magical populated places in the world, dropped by half: almost one percent of the entire magical population worldwide." By this point Hermione's eyes were wide, as were Harry's. Neville wasn't quite as shocked, but he clearly hadn't known the figures.

"When Grindelwald managed to conquer mainland Europe in 1940, there were fears he'd do the same thing to England. Before then, muggleborns might have been looked down upon, but they weren't treated horribly. Previously, they had enjoyed the same rights as most wizards. But when that threat came hanging over our heads... Thoughts on how to deal with it were split. One side wanted to ensure that the muggleborn never wanted to do it, the other wanted to make sure the muggleborn never _could_ do it. Even now, it's one of the biggest political issues in the wizengamot; the wizarding government." By now, I'm aware I'm on a tangent. It's a problem I have, going off on long explanations, but apparently they didn't mind; my audience was spellbound. And it's a good chance to educate them so I continue.

"It's part of the reason that you'll never see enchanted modern muggle weaponry; the sheer negative imagery associated with it... It'd be like using a swastika shaped dagger. Another more practical reason is that every warding package for houses comes free with a 'muggle-protection' set; it's a series of wards to protect against artillery and other muggle weapons that is subsidised by the Ministry. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement offers free 'bullet shield' pendants to those who've passed their OWLs. It's of the few things both sides agreed upon wholeheartedly, their only question was how much protection was enough.

There's a whole sub-department set up to monitor muggle advances; it's why they haven't caught us; public ward schemes are updated every year with freely available ward schemes." Finding all this out had solved a huge question for me; how had complacent magicals not been caught yet by the watchful muggle community? At the very least, I would have expected MI5 to order a bullet put through Voldemort's head. The answer? Magicals _weren't_ complacent, at least not as much as I thought. They might have needed to be shocked out of it, but they had got it and they were now aware of how much a danger muggle weaponry could be; the days of swords and arrows had clearly passed.

I brought myself back to the original subject. "So after all that, many magical families in Britain, and a fair few in other places, would often discourage their sons and daughters from marrying muggleborn; no-one wanted such a danger to have easy access to their family and if there is one thing the magical world treasures, it's family. It's one of the reasons muggleborns are discouraged from gaining too much power or knowledge. A combination of distrust and fear."

And with that, conversation was finished. We tidied up and went back down to dinner, where we kept conversation light, talking about what spells we would like to learn.

I'm dozing when they come. The string on my toe is tugged and I almost fly out of my bed in response. I pick up a half dozen black marbles from my bedside cabinet on my right. I can hear the shuffling and whispering outside my door thanks to to the my room's silencing wards being disabled.

I throw on a black cloak; combined with my dark pajamas it'll do as basic camouflage. I sneak towards the door and slowly open it. The grease I applied earlier ensures they do not hear and the lack of light coming from my room ensures they do not see. A peek tells me there are three of them this time, two males and a female.

I centre myself and _lift._ The marbles float from my hand and float invisibly into the corridor. I've practiced for this and last night showed it would work. Now... I _push_.

Six thumps sound on two heads. It's enough to knock two out, and distract the other long enough for me to close the distance. A pale red light illuminates the darkness as I stun the three of them, not trusting blunt force trauma to keep a wizard's biology unconscious.

With the intruders unconscious, I start to work on them. A quick strip search yields me their wands and the following search grants me some money as well as jewelry which I place back. I make sure to avoid the heir's ring on the female's finger; I don't want the defensive enchantments going off.

I'm dragging the bodies (by hand; I'd get exhausted wandlessly carrying one, and I don't know the wanded spell yet) when a gasp turns me around. The sight makes me close my eyes and simultaneously curse and bless for the event; Hermione has clearly woken up (or never went to sleep) and has seen what I've done. "Were they...?" She whispers, clearly unwilling to actually voice the thought.

"Yes, they were heading here to rape you." Her eyes flickered to the female making me smile grimly. "Even her. The Rowle family are known for not being very... discriminate... when it comes to satisfying their predilections." A shudder runs through her after a second when she gets my meaning. "Come on, help me move them." She takes the first step uncertainly, but with the knowledge of what they were planning to do to her (_us_) she firms her resolution and comes help me, taking the other hand of the boy I'm dragging.

It takes a few minutes, but we eventually drag all three to the common room. On our third trip, I make a quick journey to my room to take three items, which I reveal to Hermione once we're resting in the common room after; three 'knut knives,' so named for their immensely (or 'magically') low cost. Her eyes go wide and she whispers "What are _those_ for?" in horror.

I smile grimly. "A message. The first lot got off with a warning. This time, the warning will be harder to ignore. Help me prop them up." It takes a bit more encouraging, but eventually I get her to help me lift up on of the boys to the wall by a wooden beam. With one of my hands crossing his arms above him, Hermione holding them up and my other hand on my wand facing them, I lift a dagger and float in front of their hands. I hear Hermione's gasp as she realises what I'm planning but before she can say anything I push the dagger, driving through the teen's hands into the wood. I'm already whispering the stunning spell when the pain wakes him up and he doesn't even have time to scream before he is stunned again. I back away letting the arms sag, with the hands pinned to the wood. I face Hermione.

"Let go." Her eyes are wide and she's breathing hard. "They were planning on hurting you and not even letting you know. They just wanted to show everyone that they had power over you. They hate you, and will never accept you." Her eyes dart to them, new thoughts clearly entering her mind. "It's ok to want to hurt them. They wanted to hurt you. All this is is me _protecting_ you, and you helping with that. By doing this, you help me to ensure they won't hurt you again. The school nurse will be able to heal them with magic, what we're doing isn't permanent." My whisperings have slowly convinced her and she steps away, letting the body sag down. If the teen was unconscious, he'd be easily able to stand up. Due to him being stunned... the dagger driven through the palms of his hands is slowly tearing the tendons in them as gravity pulls him down. What I told her about the nurse is correct, but they won't have the use of their hands for a few days; I'm well aware wounds like that are slow to heal. We then do it do to the girl, and then just before I'm about to do it to the last one...

"Can I do it?" My head whips around; Hermione's question is hesitant, unsure, and yet... she means it. My mind is whirring; I never expected this. If any of my new friends were willing to help me with my 'dark' activities I would have expected it to be Harry and even then not for a few years. But Hermione; the eleven year old bookworm, little girl, teacher's pet... is willing - wanting! - to stab a dagger through someone's hands to pin them to a wall. Well well, someone isn't what they seem.

"Sure." I _lift_ and take the weight of the body in my mind; with the assistance of my body it's easy enough to hold him still. Hermione takes the dagger from my hand, and shakily positions it facing the boy's hand. "I'll help to make sure you can do enough force, but you're in charge of this one. It's you who's doing it." If she wants to do it, she'll be the one to do it; I won't assume responsibility for her actions. She nods slowly. After almost a minute of deliberations her expressions firms into determination and she stabs. With my assistance it goes straight through the palms into the wood. The ensuing wake-up is barely a moment long and a second later I let go. The jolt goes through the body as it's descent is stopped and the blood slowly runs down the boy's arms. Her eyes are wide but her breathing is surprisingly steady; I was expecting a panic attack. Maybe it'll happen later. "Come on," I beckon, and with that we travel back. I stop before the bedrooms as a thought occurs to me. "Do you want company tonight?" I ask.

She paused, before nodding shakily. "Yes please," she whispers. I close and lock my room, before closing the distance and hugging her tightly.

"You will never be alone." I vow to her. It's a vow that I don't believe I can fulfill, but will do my best to anyway. We slip into the bedroom and tuck ourselves into the bed. Once there I hold her softly as she cries herself to sleep.

It's a long night.

**A/N: And you have your first action scene. You can expect quite a few of the action scenes to be somewhat like that; I've never been one for honourable battle outside of games. And ambushes are rarely long when planned right. Of course with mistakes, poor plans, unknown circumstances... They won't all be short. But you can expect there to be emotional consequences. Just no angst (or if so, only a couple of minutes from Harry before he's whacked over the head); Angst gets on my nerves.**

**A/N 2: I don't know about any of you, but I ****_like_**** badass Sprout. The only only badass herbologist I've ever seen is Neville; Sprout is always the motherly kind one, the stereotypical Hufflepuff. Despite the fact that Helga Hufflepuff is sometimes portrayed as a bloodthirsty viking. So I took inspiration from the fanfic author 'Lens of (in)Sanity' (he's ****_brilliant_****), and looked at where Herbologists would get plants. Hence; South America, Aztec Shamans, and Sprout taking man-sized limbs off a nundu. Hogwarts is called the best school in Europe for a reason, and that reason is it's professors: between them they could face off against the entire auror department and win. It's said in the muggle world that 'those who can't do, teach.' In the wizarding world, teaching at Hogwarts is what you do when you want to access Hogwarts library, the most extensive library in Europe. A library that includes information on such esoteric things as Horcruxes and animagi. Imagine what else might be there?**

**I should note that you can expect Aquila to meet a nundu later on. In tone with the rest of the story, it'll be bigger than a tank and deadlier than a tank squadron. Nundus typically need to be taken down by over a hundred wizards; Adenberry's expedition had a hundred and forty. Dumbledore with the elder wand... He could take one down. It would just take a while. And he still might lose.**

**_Don't_**** expect Aquila to beat it.**

**A/N 3: I'm trying to think of a better name for the story. If anyone thinks of one, feel free to tell me of it in a review; if it's good enough to use (or even inspires me), I'll be eternally grateful.**


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